Burn
by AnEchoOfTime
Summary: There is a thin line between fear and desire, love and hate, pain and pleasure. ZADR. Fifth chapter up...
1. Dark Dreams

~Don't look, don't look   
  
The shadows breathe  
  
Whispering me away from you  
  
Don't wake at night to watch her sleep  
  
You know that you will always see  
  
This trembling towers a bird mad girl~  
  
Dib was doing the same thing he did every night now: running. Running through blinding darkness and muffling light. Running from the shadows calling his name. Running towards the one whom he had been calling himself. He didn't know who, but it was someone. He knew that this was just a dream--- a scary one at that, full of mystery--- yet he didn't want to stop. He wanted to keep running, until he came upon the loving arms of the one he was looking for. He would try in real life, but he didn't know who it was. He just kept screaming a name, yet he couldn't hear it. His voice in this dream was a mystery to him.  
  
~Every night I burn  
  
Every night I call your name  
  
Every night I burn   
  
Every night I fall again~  
  
Dib was sweating as he dreamt. He was muttering, squirming- tormented by his dream. He was struggling to awake, struggling to stop this nightmare. Yet he was struggling to stay in it; to find the one who he was calling to. It had to be someone. There had to be someone for him, but who? If he were to continue the dream, his nightmare, would it become a good dream when he found who he was looking for? Could he just stay in his dream? Or could his sub-conscious at least show him who it was he needed? There were answers in dreams; yet not in this one. Or were there?  
  
~Don't talk of love 'cause shadows blur  
  
Murmuring me away from you  
  
Don't talk of worlds that never were  
  
The end is always ever true  
  
There's nothing you can ever say  
  
Nothing you can ever do~  
  
The shadows; he knew what the shadows really were. If he were to get caught by one, the terror of it would wake him immediately. He wanted to, for once, finish this dream. 'What is love?' He thought as he ran. 'What is fear?' He was thinking regularly, yet he was continuing to call a name. Cold, suddenly cold; the shadows' voices like ice penetrating his thoughts. Burning, burning, noise. Laughing, terrified screaming. Darkness as the shadows devoured him, blurring together, as a Dib in burning shadow fear.  
  
~Still every night I burn  
  
Every night I scream your name  
  
Every night I burn  
  
Every night the dream's the same  
  
Every night I burn  
  
Waiting for my only friend  
  
Every night I burn  
  
Waiting for the world to end~  
  
He awoke a with start. Cold sweat was beading on his forehead, little rivulets of fear and burning desire trailing along his face, down his neck. His throat was dry, as if his insides were trying to contrast with his outsides. He reached for his glasses. When he had turned 15, he had considered contacts; but he declined, because he didn't really like the idea of sticking a piece of plastic on his eye. He turned on the light of his room. He chose the wrong light, and the room was bathed in violet light. His black light. he couldn't remember when or why he had put that there. He shrugged, then walked to the bathroom. He looked at the mirror at the disheveled reflection of himself before him. He couldn't stand his reflection. Dark circles under his eyes, hollow cheeks, skin paler than usual. He frowned, making him hate his reflection even more. He tried to smile, but it was as if his smile muscles had atrophied after all this time of nightmares and fear and searching for love and pain and loneliness. He picked up one of Gaz's eyeliner sticks that she had left on the counter.  
  
~Just paint your face and shadow smile  
  
Slipping me away from you  
  
Oh it doesn't matter how you hide  
  
Find you if we're wanting to  
  
So slide back down and close your eyes  
  
Sleep awhile - you must be tired~  
  
He took off the cap and drew a curving line at one of the corners of his mouth, creating a shadowy, twisted half smile. He then did the same to the other corner. He now had a thin, shadowed, false smile; easily washed away. Just like the kind of smile he had always had. He had wanted to look happy, so maybe he could feel happy. No. He couldn't lie to his heart like that. No. He wiped away at the kohl savagely, his nails removing some of his pale flesh. He looked at his reflection. It was in one piece. His heart wasn't. He wanted to see himself as he felt. So he punched the mirror. Hard. Blood, searing pain, flying jagged silver. He looked at the pieces, ignoring his many profusely bleeding cuts. Instead of the shattered reflection he wanted, he got many small versions of himself.   
  
Whole.   
  
~When every night I burn   
  
Every night I call your name  
  
Every night I burn  
  
Every night I fall again~  
  
He couldn't bear it. He ran to his room. He collapsed on his bed, staining crimson, becoming moister by the second. He closed his eyes. Dib fell into a troubled sleep, the exact same dream as before. As he slept, his hot blood mingled with his cold sweat. His mind was once again looking for this person he so needed now. More screaming, more darkness and dreaming. More fear of what lies ahead in the form of shadows; more desire of what lies ahead in the form of a muffled being voicing words of encouragement. He dreamt of this voice more clearly than ever before--- he must be getting closer. And he wondered, deep inside, 'Is this being dreaming of me, needing me? Are shadows of hatred or fear in their way? Or, do they even care?'  
  
~Every night I burn  
  
Scream the animal screams  
  
Every night I burn  
  
Dream the crow black dream~  
  
A/N: Did ya like it? If so, please review. Your reviews are like firewood! The more reviews, the faster I'll upload. 


	2. Gaz's Story

Dib awoke that morning. Blurriness, pain, haze. His senses were reeling, but he was barely awake.  
  
He went to peel back the sheets. That's when he noticed. His hand was cut. Badly. So were his chest and his face. Then he remembered. The broken mirror. He broke it. Last night. It was now early morning, still dark. The moon was shining its pallid light upon his bed. As if the black light didn't make him with the dried blood allover and the crimson-stained sheets look eerie enough. He was sweating, and panting. He put his hand to his forehead. Hot. Very hot.  
  
He was very thirsty as well, and needed something to help him cool down. He tried to get up to get a glass of water. He couldn't. He struggled for a while, and then realized his attempts were in vain.  
  
"Dad! Gaz!" He tried to yell, but it came as more of a hoarse whisper. 'Great, just great,' he thought sarcastically. He tried to call to them again, but ended up in a coughing fit. His chest was hurting even more now, and he could feel blood running down his body. The heaving of his chest caused by his coughing had caused the cuts to reopen. His breathing quickened, and became more labored. He couldn't see a thing; his glasses had fallen off while he slept.  
  
He turned to the side. Suddenly, there was a sharp pain on his side. He had rolled onto his glasses, and they had broken. The jagged edges were cutting into him. He swore, but he could barely hear his own words. The cuts were deep; he was becoming even weaker by the second.  
  
"Glass…" He whispered hoarsely. "The world is made of glass…" He began another coughing fit. When it was finally over, he concluded, barely hearable to his own ears, "My world…is made of glass…it is broken…the jagged remains cut into me…" He looked up at the moon, just a silver-white blur of hazy light to him. The last light he saw. Blackness.  
  
The last thing he remembered was the light when he awoke. He was awakened by a crash and a surprised scream. It had sounded female.  
  
Shocked, Dib turned to the place where it had sounded it came from. He just saw a blur, all he knew was it was a human. He squinted, trying to see better. But to no avail.  
  
"Oh, god, Dib… What did you do?" The person said sadly. Yes, the voice was female. And vaguely familiar. Where had he heard it before? He was sure he had. Somewhere. But where? And when? And how did he know her anyways?  
  
The person sighed, and then sat down beside him. She put one of her hands on his forehead. It was cold, and Dib flinched.  
  
"My goodness…you're burning up. I'd better get you to a hospital." She said. "And I'd better get you some glasses, for that matter." She mumbled to herself. "Now where are those spa- Aha! Here you go." She put the glasses on Dib.  
  
His world came into focus. The sunlight was streaming through the window, and the clock said eight a.m. He looked at the person. It was his mother!  
  
"Mom!" He exclaimed, quite excited. "Mom!"  
  
She looked puzzled, and then shook her head sadly, realization dawning.  
  
"No… You're just delusional." She said, biting her lip. She then bolted out of the door.  
  
The brief happiness Dib had felt, the torrent of emotions, was gone. In his rage, and because he was delusional, he tried to get up. He succeeded in falling out of the bed, hitting his head on the bedpost, and rubbing against the carpet. The delicate, frail wounds reopened from this activity. Pain alive and exuberant, he passed out in a heap on the floor.  
  
About a few minutes later, the girl came back inside, screaming.  
  
"Oh no! The ambulance had better be quick!" She said worriedly. She went over to Dib and arranged him in a better position. She held his head up, cradling it in her arms. Her eyes shone with concern.  
  
Suddenly, she could hear sirens. She ran outside to greet the ambulance, ushering the doctors into the house.  
  
"Is there a parent or guardian present?" Queried one of the doctors, a large man.  
  
Gaz sighed sadly. "Dad's working." She said quietly, her eyes downcast.  
  
She watched as Dib was brought onto a stretcher and carried into the back of the ambulance. She climbed in after him, gingerly picking her way through all the equipment. She watched as he was given a shot of Penicillin, to ease the pain and fever. She touched his forehead with her cool hand once again, making him flinch. She drew it back quickly. Little did she know what was going through his unconscious mind, the horrors that were being uttered in his head.  
  
'Oh, god. Someone help me. Someone give me a story, a reason. Someone tell me something that will make me want to live. Please, anyone. Tell me, help me. Explain to me why. Why must this be? Somebody…tell me that someone is there. Tell me that that someone has endured a hell greater than mine, a beating more brutal than that of a shattered world of glass… Please. I want to live…. But I'll need a reason first. Anything… Just let it be real… No disillusionment this time… No deceiving… No false love with underlying despise… Just give me someone to live for. Give me reason!'  
  
His mind was plaguing him as the thorns of his pain and sorrow were digging deeper into him, causing him more internal pain than he was feeling physically. The dreams. The dreams caused this. They had a sort of disturbing power over him, ravaging his mind in a way like nothing else could. Because of them he got no rest at night; only fright. Only problems.  
  
He didn't know, but as he thought, he was actually saying as well. Gaz heard this. At that point, he was on a stretcher, being hauled into the hospital. They went through the doors, to an elevator, and through winding hallways, then even more doors. It was a big hospital.  
  
When they finally reached the room that Dib was to stay in, they bandaged him up, gave him some medicine, and placed some cool, moist cloths on the tiny bedside table.  
  
"... Someone give me a story, a reason. Someone tell me something that will make me want to live…" Dib was muttering as Gaz placed a cloth on his brow. She held it, Dib still murmuring hoarsely.  
  
"You want a story?" Gaz asked, although she knew there would be no answer.  
  
"I'll give you a story." She began.  
  
"When I was four mom died. You remember that part though.  
  
"That day, I promised I wouldn't cry. I was determined not to. I don't even know why now; but that is not important. The important thing was that I bottled up my emotions. In doing so, I withdrew into myself, suffocating myself.  
  
"I saw only pain in the world after that. But that's because, fundamentally, that's all I ever felt. Burning pain. It consumed me. There was no way out. But then, came the GameSlave.  
  
"That was all I did after I got it; play it. That's all I thought about. It was so much easier to destroy pixilated figures on the screen… As if they were the cause of my pain, as if by destroying them I would destroy my pain. There was many a time when I really wished that were how it was. If only I could be the hero in the game of my life. If only I had all the tools, all the weapons. All the guides and strategies I need, within my reach. But that's not how life is. You do have all the skills you need to solve your problems; but most don't know how to use them. That's because you don't think so. You don't believe in yourself.  
  
"Well, that right there is part of how you become successful. Believing. Knowing. Watching, looking, listening. Learning! All you need is you, nothing else.  
  
"Anyways. So, I would just play GameSlave. I bottled up my emotions, and let them loose full blast upon my family with only the slightest provocation. I couldn't live like that. I went more into myself, seeing only pain for myself in the real world. Only abandonment, only rejection."  
  
She sighed deeply, sounding rather wistful and melancholy. "What I didn't know was…was that by doing that, I was actually wallowing in the nightmares of the world. I was soaking myself in pain, in sadness… In everything I was trying to rebel against…I…I was just making it stronger within myself. I, in a sense, allowed it to manifest itself in me."  
  
She reflected for a moment, tears of remorse staying in the place where it felt like there was nothing, in a place where her heart was supposed to be. "Life went by before my unseeing eyes. I had my eyes squinted all the time. Do you know why? I couldn't bear it; I couldn't bear seeing this messed-up world. A world where everything must die. Including good memories. Including the music that our souls sing to tell of our lives. Including us. We are dust. Dust in a sea of sand, in a never-ending desert.  
  
"But you know what? We create the deserts. It doesn't have to be there. We put it there. We create it. With our ravaged, tortured minds, we create it. We create the silent void that is us; the void where, if you scream for help, no one will hear you. Where you can't hear yourself. All you hear are the monsters that live within you.  
  
"AARGH!! I keep getting side tracked. Okay. So. Yeah, life went by before my eyes. There was nothing to see anyways. Or…that's what I thought. But there was stuff to see. Maybe…maybe. Or… I'm sure there was stuff to see… There had to be. I know it. I missed it though. I missed out on all the chances to live."  
  
Then, she said something most surprising. "My little world is made of glass. Time and time again, the glass breaks. My world shatters in a shower of sharp edges, cutting into me. But, instead of rebuilding it… I just, I just, I just created a new one, going further and further within myself."  
  
She closed her eyes tightly, turning away. She took a sharp intake of breath, trying to calm down. "Dib. Dib, your world was made of glass too. But instead of letting it shatter, you must rebuild it. It may take awhile. And you might need help. I cannot help. I cannot even help myself. It's too late for me. But not for you. You have hope."  
  
She turned to him, with tears in her eyes. There was a lump in her throat, and it was hard to talk. "When people tell you… If anyone ever tells you that…that time heals all wounds, don't believe them. For time heals no wounds. Time cannot even mend itself. Only you can heal your wounds. Because they are yours, not time's."  
  
Gaz said all of this, not knowing that Dib actually heard her. He could hear her somehow, as he lay unconscious. Or, maybe he happened to be imagining the same thing that she was saying.  
  
Gaz turned and began to walk towards the door. She was crying. For the first time since before her mother died, she was crying. The tears were running freely down her pallid cheek. She didn't bother to wipe them away. Right before she went to open the door, she realized something.  
  
"Dib. Thank you. Thank you for being you, for being here. Thank you for listening. Thank you for helping me find my heart today. I hope that you soon find yours. We all need to feel loved, to feel appreciated. That is what life is. That is what makes life worthwhile. When all is said and done, you'll realize that the reason you were alive was for others. It doesn't matter what you did to them; what matters is that there were others there. That you aren't all alone….  
  
"And to think, I needed an unconscious boy who wasn't really listening to learn all of this. Thank you."  
  
But Dib was listening…  
  
…And waiting.  
  
A/N: Whaddaya think now? Like it, hate it? Love it, despise it? Well, I really wanna know, no matter what your respnse. It's good to hear from you.  
  
And... Was the chapter too long? To short? Just right? I dunno, so please tell me. The more ya tell me, the more it'll improve your reading experience.  
  
Well, until next time... Oh, never mind. You're probably sick of me by now anyways.  
  
\m/^.^\m/ 


	3. Days Later

Forgive me. I have been so preoccupied, and I haven't even thought of this fic. Thank you, everybody, for reviewing. I am not sure why I did not post this earlier.  
  
It's been rough for me. I'm going through some rough times right now, for many reasons.  
  
But today, I went back to ff.net, and I saw all the reviews this fic had gotten. *hangs head in shame* I do not want this fic to die, it is a very fun one for me to write. I'm sorry, but it has been quite hard to come up with what would happen next in it; at least, at this point in my life…  
  
Well, here's the next chapter. I realize that it's short. But see, it was originally ten pages long…but I decided to break it up into smaller segments, because I wanna leave ya at a cliff hanger. Dun worry, I already have the next chapter, so you needn't wait long.  
  
IMPORTANT-a change has been made! (please read): Okay, you know how Gaz says, "When I was four mom died." Yes, she did. Anyways, now, instead, Gaz and Dib's mother died at a different point. It is explained in this chapter.  
  
Last of all, if something doesn't make sense or doesn't fit in here, feel free to tell me about it.  
  
Thank you,  
  
~A-soooo-incredibly-sorry-Elizabeth  
  
Membrane screamed.  
  
Dib didn't hear the scream.  
  
He didn't hear anything.  
  
The one thing he could hear wasn't an actual sound; it was merely the screaming in his head, the many voices, the screams of guilt and loneliness, words that were not words were haunting him, and music, an eerie music that wasn't there was filling the four steel walls he had built within his mind years ago to protect himself from reality.  
  
But now, reality had prevailed. And it hit him harder than anything ever could have.   
  
'Never again,' the wan boy thought as he fired, another beam of deadly light, another scream, piercing the darkness, for but a moment in time.  
  
*  
  
The first thing Zim noticed about Dib when he opened the door was how disheveled and worn-out he looked. There was something about him that suddenly seemed frail, almost as if he were about to break, to crumble, right then and there.  
  
"Zim," It was a simple greeting, which was odd, but the strangest part about it was that it was completely devoid of any hatred or disgust whatsoever. It was, in fact, devoid of emotion itself.  
  
"Dib," replied Zim slowly, warily, not quite sure what to expect of the boy. He noticed that Dib was holding his trench coat closed with a tight fist, almost as if to ward off whatever it was that wanted him broken, that had created the hairline cracks in his sanity.  
  
"Guess what? I have great news for you. You win. And, in a sick kind of way, I win too. Wonderful, no?" Dib smiled viciously, the expression haunted and empty.  
  
"Wha…What?" Zim was puzzled. Yet, somewhere in his hearts, Zim knew that something terrible had happened to Dib; the boy wouldn't be like this otherwise.  
  
Quicker than lightning, Dib pulled a gun he had stolen from Zim long ago from his coat, pointed it at Zim's head. "Dammit Zim! You heard me! I'm tired of this shit! You WIN! I win too…but only I would consider this to be a victory." He paused and tried to collect himself, calm himself. "The authorities will find me eventually." He whispered, and the oddly cloudy Summer sky seemed to open up with tears as Dib sank to his knees, dropped his arms, still clutching the gun like a lifeline. "My bloody handprints are on the walls. I know it," He said, as if this explained all.  
  
Zim felt torn, suddenly; he knew he was feeling worry, and confusion. But he had felt those before. There was another feeling there, somewhere inside of him. He just wasn't sure what. He decided to say what was on his mind, no longer caring about his persona, his image, since there really was no one left to project it to. "What's the matter? What happened?" It was simple. It was all that was needed to release a storm.  
  
"Life, Zim, that's what's the matter! That's what happened! LIFE! Life…" He screamed, anguished, shocking Zim at the sudden emotion coming from the pale being that was nearly lifeless a moment before. "LIFE IS WHAT HAPPENED!" He repeated, shrieking madly, standing up in a show of rage. "Life…" He whimpered, and as quickly as he had stood, he sank to his knees. He looked up at Zim, an almost beseeching look in his large amber eyes.  
  
Feeling awful and confused, Zim helped Dib up and brought him out of the rain. Somehow, he didn't even mind the fact that there was mud on Dib's shoes as he stumbled to the living room. Zim set him down gently, sympathy and worry, of all things, emanating from his ruby eyes.  
  
"Now. Tell me, calmly, what happened to you." Zim said slowly, as if to a half-wit.  
  
But Dib seemed to be a world of his own. Eyes full of anguish and hollowness, he rocked back and forth on his heels, holding himself. "Gaz…Poor, poor Gaz. My sister, she didn't know what hit her…and she was happy when she found out, I'll bet…Gaz…" He swallowed heavily, and his haunted eyes looked into Zim's.  
  
"Gaz… Oh, my poor, poor baby sister…my baby sister… She never knew, she never knew. The guilt of momma's death had haunted her for her entire life, had stuck to her, slowly eaten away at her… She took the blame of what she didn't do… Oh, my baby sister!" He wailed, sobbing, choking. "Why? Why, dammit? Why did she never listen to me…? Why had she brooded like that? I remember her, at night. She whispered in her sleep, moaned in her sleep, cried, talked, screamed… She always said sorry, to no one, no one was there. But I know whom she was apologizing to. She was saying sorry to mom, she thought it was all her fault…  
  
"BUT IT WASN'T!! It was dad's…Membrane's… Father gave mother no rest. He got her pregnant again two days after I was born. And…and momma knew she wouldn't be able to hold Gaz to term. Her body was failing. Because of dad. So, at around six months, she induced labor on herself using dad's equipment. I don't want to think of how. It was a hideous thing…there was so much blood, or so I saw on the security tapes… Mother died while giving birth to Gaz.  
  
"And Gaz carried the dark burden for her whole life. Even as I told her it wasn't her fault, she didn't believe me. I showed her the videos. She still felt heavy with guilt. Sadness. I know, somewhere inside of me, that she had decided to cross the road right when that speeding car had turned the corner. I can imagine her smiling as the car nears. She died instantly. It was this morning, a summer day; dawn, when the birds were singing a chorus of love for the birth of a new day. My baby sister, my little sister, my fifteen-year-old sister, finally got her life's desire." He choked and sobbed, no longer caring that his enemy, his rival, was seeing him like this.  
  
Zim was as haunted as Dib was now; so much had happened, so fast. These past few weeks had yielded nothing but terrible things. He already had enough personal problems; the Tallest already let slip their utter hatred for Zim. But somehow, seeing Dib like this, seeing him so weak and vulnerable, so quiet and haunted, really struck a nerve. It sent him closer to the edge than anything else.  
  
Dib was supposed to be the boy who knew everything. Dib, who would do anything to stop Zim from destroying his world. It never got old for either of them, and Zim knew he owed his fun on Earth to Dib. Dib, who was always Zim's wonder boy from the moment they started their never-ending fight. Dib, who always spoke with a strong voice, with resolve and determination.  
  
Seeing his wonder boy, his enemy, the one thing he had now, crumpled and broken on his floor, whispering words of pain to himself, sent the Irken into a state of panic. Everything he had ever known to be was now muddled up, broken, and he felt that maybe it was his job to put the shards back together. Zim really had always had mixed feelings about Dib; he hated him for ruining his plans, and that was the feeling that had always been dominant. Now that there was no reason to conquer Earth, for he couldn't do it without the Tallest, and there would really be no point, he felt that he actually liked Dib, for being Zim's enemy, for being his entertainment, the boy that had really put fun into attempting to conquer Earth. He sighed in confusion. What was wrong with him?! How could he actually even begin to think that had to help Dib?!  
  
Right as he was beginning to think that he should just throw Dib coldly out of his house, he took another look at him. Dib's eyes reflected a soul still smoldering in the fires of pain, searing forevermore. And Zim's face fell. He couldn't do it, not after seeing the hollow way Dib looked at him.  
  
For Zim had seen the exact same empty look in the mirror every single day since he had launched himself out of denial. He choked and his mouth gaped open.   
  
"Gaz got her chance…to…to...to apologize to mom…" Dib whispered, the lump in his throat allowing only that much. He could take it no longer, and was immediately launched into tears and sobbing, choking, feeling even more pathetic at each passing second.  
  
After a few minutes his sobs grew steadily weaker, until out of sheer exhaustion he lay limp on Zim's floor.  
  
Before he closed his eyes, Dib looked into Zim's eyes once more, confused as to why Zim was being so tolerant, even nice to him.  
  
But Zim saw something completely different in Dib's eyes. He saw not confusion, but accusation. To Zim, Dib's was a look that said 'Look at how much pain I'm in! Why won't you help me? Please, please, I don't want to be all alone like this… How could you abandon me like everyone else?' And then he slid those haunting eyes shut. Zim realized that Dib had only him now, but he couldn't take it. He couldn't stand seeing Dib.   
  
Zim couldn't handle it any longer. One could only be pushed so far. He couldn't stand Dib's eyes.  
  
He picked up Dib's gun and fired, the beam of energy hitting its intended target and echoing into the night like a scream.  
  
* 


	4. After Effects

Okay, I just realized that this story takes a REALLY sharp turn from its original plot and feel...sorry. But oh well. Here's the next chapter, anyways...  
  
Zim couldn't handle it any longer. One could only be pushed so far. He couldn't stand Dib's eyes.  
  
He picked up Dib's gun and fired, the beam of energy hitting its intended target and echoing into the night like a scream...  
  
*  
  
Dib awoke to the sound of his gun firing. His reflexes kicking in, he immediately flung himself across the room, hitting the ground and rolling behind the couch. Shallow breathing filled his ears, and it wasn't until a few moments later that he realized it wasn't his. Heart pounding, he peeked around the corner of the couch to investigate. When he saw Zim, panting, wide-eyed and gaping, Dib remembered that he wasn't at his own house.  
  
He remembered what he had done that day, what had happened.  
  
Baby sister...  
  
Long ago, there was a little boy whose life shattered before his eyes. Call him Dib.  
  
Over the years, he went off chasing what was called 'fake' by those around him. He wasn't crazy: he was hurt.  
  
He would never be the same since his mother's death, though he didn't know it. He couldn't remember himself all those years ago. Good thing, too.  
  
He spent his years of what was known as 'life' trying to put the shards back together, always gluing, incessantly gluing, nothing more.  
  
Then a green child came to class one day. Call him Zim.  
  
Dib called him enemy. Alien. Evil.  
  
But now he is 'friend'.  
  
And upon seeing Zim, dying on the floor, choking on his own breath, squeezing out his last moments, Dib let go of everything that had happened earlier. He realized that if he didn't, then Zim would die, and he would have nothing. In the desert of time, his life had already become dust, and he would as well if he didn't save Zim now.  
  
Friend.  
  
Dib crawled to him, turned him over. Zim had fired at his Pak, for if he had fired at his head, he wouldn't have immediately died. He'd have had chance of survival. Dib knew that there wasn't much time; the Pak was what kept Zim alive. He had to find a way to help him.  
  
"Computer!" He shouted, panicking.  
  
"Yes?" The computer responded, obviously annoyed. Dib wondered briefly why it didn't just throw him out for being an intruder. Oh well. He had more important things to do now.  
  
"Can you fix Zim's Pak?"  
  
"No can do." It replied, nonchalantly, yet still with a hint of annoyance.  
  
"Okay... Then can you, maybe, you know, make a new one?" He asked, voice full of hope.  
  
"The Irken Pak is what holds all of an Irken's data, all their knowledge, memories, and even their personality. To give an Irken a new Pak would make them a new being, give them a new personality, and they would never be the same." The booming voice said monotonously, zombie-like, almost as if he were quoting a passage in a book that he had already read many times.  
  
Dib grew worried and bit his already too-short nails. He began to draw blood, a metallic tang in his mouth. He inhaled deeply. "Well... Then can you at least duplicate Zim's Pak? You know, make a new one and download all of his information into it?" He was beginning to grow worried, yet he remained calm. Panicking would get him nowhere.  
  
"Maybe. Wanna try?" The computer asked, an expecting silence following afterward.  
  
Dib cleared his throat. "Uhh, sure."  
  
Cords and cables descended from the ceiling, connected to Zim's Pak with a satisfying 'click' and whirred partway back up, suspending Zim a few feet in the air. He looked confused and frightened, eyes darting back and forth, yet not able to utter a single sound-- or at least, not able to be very loud, as Dib soon heard Zim whimpering, of all things. There were only a few minutes left.  
  
Immediately, the television showed a bar slowly filling up with the words 'Downloading data' written above it, as a Pak materialized and was immediately lifted by more cables, ascending until it was level with Zim's limp form.  
  
Zim was pale and feverish, sweat beading on his brow, frightened and confused. He was shutting down quickly; the bullet had broken one of the main cables in his Pak that brought information to the rest of him, almost as serious as breaking or damaging the spinal cord of a human. He wanted to curl up, and let this all end; but the cables from the ceiling shot waves of electricity into his body in a desperate attempt to keep him alive until the new Pak could be installed.  
  
The 'download' bar crawled forward, so close to completion yet getting slower by the second. Zim was slipping away, further and further. Dib was biting his nails.  
  
Suddenly he wished to go back in time. To appear by his sister before the car hit, to push her out of the way, to run away, to never see his father's hidden face, to never even have to experience another lie.  
  
He was human, and he needed to be loved.  
  
Just like everybody else does.  
  
Zim was nearly gone by the time the new Pak was done downloading his data, the alien's mind already slipping into blissful blackness.  
  
His ruby eyes were half-closed, face expressionless, but calm.  
  
Peaceful.  
  
That is, until the cables removed his Pak and forced in the new one quickly, a single fluid movement. Dib didn't realize this until he heard a sound like lightning cracking and a scream.  
  
He shook himself out of his reveries and turned quickly to Zim. The alien was laying flat on his face, electricity and sparks crackling around him, the brightness assaulting Dib's eyes. He squinted until the after-effects of adding a new Pak to an Irken were over. Zim groaned and turned over, eyes staring blankly.  
  
"Oh, and, by the way kid, an Irken with a new Pak may...have some...emotional problems. And their personality may change," He paused. "Actually I dunno. This has never been done before."  
  
"How helpful..." muttered Dib to himself, striding towards the Irken's unmoving form. The alien looked spaced-out, a stupid grin on his face. Dib decided to chance saying something.  
  
"You okay?" It was the first thing that came to mind, and he really was wondering how Zim felt after that whole ordeal.  
  
This seemed to startle the Irken. He leapt up, shrieking. "Hey! I was trying to sleep! And what are you doing in my house? I must make a call to the Tallest! My-- my Tallest! Oh no! Get out!" He took a deep breath, for he had said that all without pausing to breathe. It was a symptom of having a new Pak; scientists had only speculated on this, however, and briefly, for if an Irken were to die they would just believe that it was weak. Such was Irken life, and Zim would have been honored slightly to show them that a dying Irken can survive a new Pak installation, and he could show them the after-effects, such as sometimes forgetting to breathe.  
  
Another after-effect happened to be memory loss. 


	5. Delusion

Um...yeh whatever happened to my readers? Oh my. I fear I have lost them all...(except for Skezic, of course.)  
  
Anyways, I hope that you'll all be back soon! And if you are...well then why are you not reviewing? Much as I hate to say it, the lack of reviews really is quite discouraging.

* * *

Zim sat cross-legged in front of the television, eagerly watching the little 'transmitting' bar fill up, excited, believing that he would see his beloved Tallest again. He was attempting this for the   
twenty-fifth time, always eager, always hopeful and confident, always waiting. His face fell as the screen flashed 'Transmission cancelled, channel non-existent' once again. His simple, child-like mind could not remember that his Empire, his beloved, had disowned him. Or, perhaps, he did not want to remember.  
  
"I wanna talk to my Tallest, but the stupid computer won't let me!" Zim wailed, confused and hurt.  
  
Dib did what he had had to do for the last twenty-five times. _This is getting to be too much_, Dib thought, as he put his arm around Zim's shoulder and listened to his complaining.  
  
_Whining, so much whining. Crying, why so much crying?_ Dib thought, _I want the old Zim back, the proud one, the stubborn one, the annoying one! I want the Zim from before all of this, the Zim who wanted to rule the world!  
_  
A lump formed in the boy's throat. _And to think_,_ if I hadn't come here, if I hadn't spilled out my problems and cried, he would never have attempted suicide! If I had let go, and not killed dad, none of this would have happened! I wouldn't be holding Zim, letting him bawl! I would be at home, planning to stop him from taking over the world, watching Mysterious Mysteries, reading Crop Circles magazine... I would be happy. And it's my entire fault. Because of me, Zim's life is ruined. And mine, too.  
_  
"You know what Zim, I'm going to go home now, okay?" Dib said slowly, gently, trying to be as patient as possible with the mess that was once a proud 'Invader'.  
  
"No..." Zim managed to squeak out. "You...you stay here. It's not like they'll let you back in your house, anyway. It's a crime scene now, under heavy investigation." Zim's voice grew stronger, memories flooding back into his mind like waves. He really didn't want to be so...emotional in front of Dib, or even have so many emotions at all. But he just couldn't stop crying, and beating himself up as he was now only made matters worse.  
  
Dib was surprised, to say the least. And even happy that Zim hadn't kicked him out yet, for he knew that he would not be let into his house, and would probably be taken to the police station. He had nowhere to go but the base of his enemy. _So be it_. _It's not like he's a threat now, anyways, and it appears as if his rulers no longer want to have anything to do with him; well, I certainly see why; it's not like any of his plans for world domination actually worked.  
_  
"Can we try again?" Zim asked, sounding, of all things, like a child.  
  
Dib yawned widely, shaking his head. "No, Zim. I'm tired... It's late, anyway."  
  
"But I wanna try calling again!" Zim whined, pouting.  
  
Dib couldn't help but laugh at the child-like behavior the alien exhibited. He had never seen anything like it, and it began to amuse him. "No, Zim. Time for bed." He said softly, almost like a mother would.  
  
"But...I don't sleep. Irkens don't need sleep." Zim explained, as if it were the most obvious thing in the universe.  
  
Dib sighed audibly, the sound eventually morphing into a groan. "Jeez, Zim," Dib placed his head in his hands. _What will I do,_ he wondered inside.  
  
"Well, instead of sleeping, why don't you be quiet while I sleep? Humans do need to sleep, Zim." Dib was trying his hardest to be patient. It took so much control for him to not just knock Zim out right then and there. But he needed someone now; he did not want to be all alone, running from the law. Even this broken, over-emotional ex-enemy was better than no one.  
  
"Okay, I'll try..." Zim said, giving Dib the look of a wounded puppy. He began to feel really bad, because he knew he annoying Dib. As the human boy lay down on the couch, Zim began to sniffle.  
  
Soon it turned to all-out sobbing, tears of confusion streaming from his eyes. He barely even knew who he was; his Pak held all of his memories, yes, but in his current child-like state of mind, he could not find those memories. He groped in the darkness, looking for something, anything that could be a key to his past, still sobbing. He felt so very inadequate, so very useless. He crawled on all fours, searching. He had been searching for something all his life, and just now those memories seemed to filter back into his mind.  
  
Irk. He remembered his homeland, or at least part of it. Homesickness, a sudden ache in his heart. He was suffocating, choking in this air, choking on his own tears. And there was nothing he could do to help himself. Stumbling, he suddenly ran into something warm and bulky. He heard a groan. It was Dib.  
  
Still sniffling, Zim lay down next to Dib, his own back against Dib's, pressed closely for warmth and comfort.  
  
_Dib is my new leader,_ Zim resolved inwardly. All Irkens needed a leader. It was part of their lives. They couldn't function properly without one; or so they had been raised to believe. Zim began to wiggle a little, trying to get more comfortable on the edge of the couch, which ended up pushing Dib farther into the cushions of the couch.  
  
Dib awoke groggily. "Zim...! Leave me alone! You're already annoying enough when I'm awake..." He yawned. "Can't you just...be quiet? Be good?" Dib did not want to be bothered anymore. It had been a long, long day, and he just wanted to sleep.  
  
Zim whimpered, not wanting to lose another beloved leader. "Yes, master. Anything." He said it so quietly, Dib did not even believe his ears. He thought that he had just imagined the alien's words, or misheard. But before he could ask, Zim slinked off into the darkness. The boy shrugged it off. He could ask in the morning... 


End file.
